Wash And Dry
by Amy5918
Summary: "Oh." Sullivan paused, and Travis was not entirely sure any one of them was actually breathing. "So… suppose one wanted to woo you, and you wanted to be wooed… washing and drying would do the trick?" Travis POV of Andy/Sullivan seemingly innocent interactions. Slow-burn.


**A/N: This takes place before the wildfires. Hope you enjoy it. I really like the Andy/Sullivan pairing, and it warms my heart to write them. (English is not my first language, and I really want to improve, so feel free to point out any mistakes! ****)**

Travis Montgomery prided himself on his observation skills. It was a rather useful skill on his line of work, really. He could always detect the slightest irregularity when assessing a victim's heart rate. His aptitude towards memorizing exact skin tones was particularly relevant in victims with suspected internal bleeding, where a progressively lowering blood pressure and paling skin could indicate serious trouble ahead. In cases with gas leaks, he would always be the one to keep an eye on his fellow teammates and notice whenever one of them needed to tap out.

Yes, Travis Montgomery really enjoyed the way his eyes would almost imperceptibly narrow whenever they found something worth surveying. He could monitor the world around him with subtlety and still keep a smile on his face – which was particularly helpful when the world around him was composed by firefighters who didn't like knowing they were being taken care of.

However, regardless of how much he enjoyed his very subtle superpower, it sometimes got him in trouble. And it had been getting him in a lot of trouble lately. Travis smirked to himself as he ate a spoonful of cereals. The firehouse was so silent – it was 05:40 am – that he wondered if anyone else could hear him thinking. He hoped not. Thinking of his superpower out loud would not do him any favours.

The first time it dawned on him how dangerous a superpower it really was, Travis was eating soup at the firehouse dinner table. He remembered how the soup felt wonderfully warm – not too hot, and not too cold – and tasted like magic. He had always been a rather enthusiastic fan of soup. Everyone else was similarly entertained, hungry after a typically busy Friday-night shift. The lights had been dimmed, as they frequently did whenever they planned on going to sleep after eating, and no-one was really talking. Travis recalled how he allowed his eyes to take in the cosy view, and he especially remembered the sudden gasp he had to pretend was a cough when his eyes landed on two of his teammates.

Andy Herrera and Robert Sullivan were _leaning_ on each other. Granted, it was a very slight lean, barely perceptible, and only their upper arms were slightly touching, but there was definite leaning. Both were eating with opposing hands, even though Travis _knew_ Andy was right-handed and not left-handed like her eating suggested. Her right hand was on her lap, which also wasn't usual for her. Andy typically respected formal etiquette in its simplest form, which meant she had no patience for multiple cutlery but always abode by the both-hands-must-be-at-the-table-during-meals rule.

A bit more surreptitious exploring made Travis aware of how Sullivan's left hand was also on his lap, and he smiled as he remembered how shocked he felt as he silently wondered if they were holding hands. Travis chuckled at his overactive imagination. As if. That had been more than two weeks ago, and never again had he witnessed anything even remotely similar.

Not that he wanted to. After the mental image of Andy and their captain sneakily holding hands under the table, he started to resent his superpower. He didn't want to be privy to these kinds of secrets. It was a responsibility he would much rather delegate to the firehouse's official gossip lovers – Vic and Maya.

Travis shook his head and snorted, amused, as he thought of the high-pitched squeals he would get from those two if he told them of his suspicions. He rose from his seat at the breakfast table and started walking towards the archive. He still had to finish some reports, and he was going to enjoy the quiet time before everyone woke up to do it. His tendency to always wake up before 06:00 am even when he didn't have to came in handy sometimes.

As soon as he reached the archive room, the first thing he noticed was the door had not been properly closed. He rolled his eyes. Probably Miller's doing. He was about to fully open the door when his eyes widened in surprise – or shock, he wasn't sure which.

Andy Herrera and Robert Sullivan had fallen asleep on the floor against the shelf farthest from the door. They were surrounded by open case files, and it looked like they had been writing reports of their own. Andy's head was resting on Sullivan's shoulder, and his arm was wrapped around her waist. The captain's jacket was covering most of Andy's body.

Travis stood at the door for an entire minute, which seemed like a really strange eternity. He gaped at the scene, and instantly tried to come up with reasonable explanations for what he was seeing. No explanation he fabricated, however, even came close to satisfying him.

After a while he made a decision. He took a deep breath, eyed his teammates one last time, and smiled. Whatever that was, it had not been meant for him to see, so he turned off the lights and thoroughly (and silently) closed the door.

ST19ST19ST19

Later that shift, just as everyone had already finished eating breakfast, Travis allowed himself to watch the interaction between their captain and Andy. Andy had offered to wash the dishes for everyone, and playfully nominated Sullivan as her second-in-command. Sullivan had pretended to put on a fight – really, who were they trying to kid – but immediately demanded to have the task of rinsing the dishes.

Travis pretended to busy himself with sorting out the bad apples and bananas from the basket and smiled as their voices carried across the room.

"A true gentleman would have offered to wash _and _dry, just so you know." Andy's playful tone was accompanied by a flick of her soap-covered fingers in the captain's direction.

"Indeed. However, you always enjoy lecturing me on how you are a strong and independent woman, so I figured any gentlemanly attitudes on my behalf wouldn't be well received." Sullivan shrugged.

"I am strong and independent." Andy conceded. "But that doesn't mean I don't like to be wooed every once in a while."

Travis could almost _hear_ the timid smile on Andy's lips.

"Oh." Sullivan paused, and Travis was not entirely sure any one of them was actually breathing. "So… suppose one wanted to woo you, and you wanted to be wooed… washing _and_ drying would do the trick?"

Travis had to cover a snort, while Andy actually laughed. "Well, yeah. I am pretty certain it would."

"Hmm." The captain mused aloud. "And here I thought flowers and chocolate were pretty decent wooing options. I must have been out of the game for too long."

Andy playfully smacked him on the arm. "Prat."

"Sorry, does that mean you are opposed to chocolate?"

"Nothing I say will ever be synonym of no-chocolate-for-me. Learn that, and you might succeed." Andy stated pointedly.

Sullivan smiled softly, and Travis felt, not for the first time that day, that he was intruding on a very intimate moment. "I will remember that."

"Good."

A very long moment passed, and Travis had no more apples and bananas to sort through. He started to walk away in the opposite direction, but then he heard his captain clear his throat so he slowed his steps.

"Herrera?"

"Yes, sir?" Andy was grinning, Travis was sure.

"Tonight, I'll offer to wash _and _dry."

"Okay. And, sir?"

"Yes, Herrera?"

"Just know that while I won't let you do both… in terms of wooing, I will be wooed."


End file.
